


Explanations

by Gwynne



Category: Vorkosigan Saga - Lois McMaster Bujold
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-15
Updated: 2010-10-15
Packaged: 2017-10-12 17:15:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/127163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gwynne/pseuds/Gwynne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Byerly's interview with Gregor after Dono's attack - a missing scene from 'A Civil Campaign'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Explanations

By fidgeted uneasily under that level gaze. For heaven's sake, the man was some kind of cousin, couldn't he be just a little less remote?

Mind you, being a Vorrutyer meant that every other Vor was a cousin, somewhere along the line. Some Vor families bred for strength (many), or intelligence (rare), or just stolid loyalty (what else are Vor for?) Vorrutyers didn't breed for anything in particular. They just bred. But they did that better than anyone else – it was impossible to be Vor and not be part-Vorrutyer.

Somehow the waiting silence took on an icy tone. By looked up and sighed quietly. This wasn't the moment for stray thoughts. This wasn't a happy family reunion. This wasn't a social occasion. This was the moment when little Byerly Vorrutyer got his head handed to him on a plate. Literally, if he wasn't careful.

"Uh… Sire… things didn't go quite to my plan."

"And is it your job to make those kinds of plans?" The Emperor's voice was very quiet. And trust him to hit bang on the target with his first shot.

"Well, no, sire, not as such. But…" Even By couldn't force out 'I was only trying to help' under that chill gaze.

"Remind me." As if he needed it. "What is your job, Byerly?"

By wondered if he should try to stand to attention. He wondered if he was going to fall over before this was done. He hoped he'd get a chair soon. Usually when he felt this bad he'd at least enjoyed a phenomenally good night beforehand, not hours of frantic worry as he rushed all over town while horrific scenarios played out in his head. He knew his outfit would never be the same again – and it was such a wonderful suit, in a colour that really looked good on him. It matched his eyes. Well, it did before they got all red and bloodshot and tired.

Job. What was his job? And was it really worth it? Right now he had his doubts.

Deep breath. At least don't let your voice tremble in front of the remarkably unsympathetic armed guards, "My job, Sire, is to collect and report information from my social circle."

"And when did you report the plan to assault Lord Dono Vorrutyer?"

"I… uh… I haven't. Yet. Well, now that I'm here…" He met that chill gaze again. Right. Jokes in this situation… big mistake. Sadly, not his biggest mistake lately.

"And this plan to make a dangerous, and possibly treasonous, attack on someone who may be a Vor Count, this plan that you chose not to report to your immediate superior as you should have done, who was involved in it?"

By froze. The T word. His emperor had said the T word. Ivan had told him that Gregor furiously angry was like Gregor any other time. Quiet. And he was really REALLY quiet right now.

The T word. Treason. Ohhhh gods.

By wondered how to make 'it seemed like a good idea at the time' sound in any way a good defence.

He wished he'd had a good breakfast. He was already starving and he wasn't even chained to a post yet. Hopefully they'd let him choose a post in the shade – direct sunlight would play havoc with his complexion.

Would now be a good time to fling himself at Gregor's feet and beg for mercy? How clean was this carpet?

"Sire, the plan involved Richars. And … and me."

"And was it his idea from the beginning?"

"Uh… I may have… er… nudged him towards it."

Some kinds of silence can flay the skin right off you. By tried not to fidget. He didn't even attempt a hopeful smile.

To his horror he realised his mouth was still moving. "I thought… I thought it would give Dono some chance at the sympathy vote… and it wasn't entrapment, not really, it just gave Richars a chance to show his true colours. And Dono would be a much better Count than Richars, truly he would. I had it all planned so perfectly, if only everyone had done what they were supposed to…"

He cast a pleading glance at one of his guards. Please, please shoot me now. Stop me before I babble any more.

Gregor's wristcom beeped quietly. He stood up and turned to the door, "I have to go back for the vote." Thank the Gods for democracy in action. "So I'll send you to - "

…to? To Impsec, to be fast-penta'd and imprisoned?

…to? To trial for treason, followed by execution or an assisted suicide?

…to? To exile from Vorbarr Sultana, from Barrayar itself – forced into the miserable life of an outcast?

By held his breath, wishing he wasn't an atheist right now so that he could believe in the power of prayer to help him.

"…to Lady Alys. You can explain all this to her. In detail."

By whimpered in horror. Impsec – execution – exile – he'd take any of them. He'd take all three.

Anything but Lady Alys.


End file.
